Thursday, January 6, 2011

Artichoke: "Here we go again."


Artichoke. The last time I reviewed Artichoke, it was a shitshow, I got into an argument with strangers, and someone gave me $100. Lesson learned. Always antagonize yuppies. They might pay me for the service of rubbing some of my percieved authenticity off on them! Little do they know this is all a shtick and I'm actually a 32 year old woman from Augusta getting my doctorate in Comp. Lit. at the CUNY Grad Center and Slice Harvester is an elaborate performance piece! False authenticity abounds, beware.

Reading a little bit about Artichoke, I accidentally meandered over to my least favorite website, where I found the worst food writing I've ever seen in my life, care of a Chris H:
A sordid affair. Like an impish ex who's only reason for existence is to cause malady and a moment of joy in a moment of impetuous inebriation, Artichoke is there.
It is worth the inevitable wait and chaotic service for what is easily the best margherita slice in the city. Perfectly balanced flavors of tomatoes, cheese and basil sits a top of cracker crisp crust.
Fresh from the oven, it's far too easy to indulge too hastily and vehemently in a booze fueled haze.
Upon waking, you'll notice a burning sensation from the previous night's piping hot tomato sauce or your fling's prior iniquity.*
* Purely fictional. **
** There's a cream for that anyway.
What a d-bag! "An impish ex... impetuous inebriation... cracker crisp crust... [dismissive STI joke]" This guy is a like the Tom Robbins of Yalp.com. You can just smell how delighted with himself this motherfucker was when he wrote that. I can just see him now, sitting at his Macbook, typing the last '.' with a lone, pointed index finger, kicking his feet up onto his desk crossed at the ankle, with his hands behind his head and thinking, "this review is gonna get me so much pussy."

If I ever start taking myself that serious, someone please call me out. And if I am unreceptive, just cut out my tongue and cut off my fingers so I can never speak or type again. Please, don't just do it for me, do it for the world. Maybe I just hate Chris H because I fear I may become him?


As you may remember, the last time I ate at Artichoke like, two weeks ago, I got their margherita slice, and they only have two kinds of pizza, so I decided to try their famous artichoke slice this time. Before I talk about that, I'd like to briefly revisit my thoughts on their margherita. I'm pretty sure last time I said it was too expensive at $4, but I've been rethinking that. I think it's fairly priced. That thing is HUGE. And delicious. The ingredients are such good quality and it is totally awesome. It's not a New York slice, but good nevertheless. And priced fairly.

But having now eaten the Artichoke slice, I definitely don't see what the hype is about this place. Me and John both felt a very intense attraction-repulsion to this piece of food. It was totally disgusting, but I was drawn to it. Let me describe this slice for anyone who's never had it: Puck-like and enchanting, the pie at Artichoke-Basille's is both a beguiling coquette and mischeivous trickster. The perfect union of the demure and aggressive, the solar and lunar, the masculine and feminine. The crust is thick and firm, stoic and unmoving as the mountains. But atop this strong base rest the cheese and artichoke sauce, supple and yielding as an unblemished virgin, erogenous and engaging as.... FUCK. Sorry. That's my warning. Next time you guys get to start taking off my fingers.

This slice was so rich it made me and John sick. But we couldn't stop eating it! We could feel it hardening our arteries and clogging up our prematurely old-mannish bowels (you know the famous Woody Guthrie addage "hard livin' and hard travelin' makes for hard stools"). This is like if someone flattened out a bread bowl and poured too-thick soup on top of it. There had to be like, a gallon of heavy cream on our slice. I don't like this. And it made both of us feel nauseated. I can't even imagine what kind of sicko eats an entire one of these things by themself.

Rating:
n/a

Artichoke - $4.50
328 E 14th St (1st & 2nd)
New York, NY 10003

6 comments:

  1. People keep telling me to go here. I don't think I'll bother after this. You forgot to say Chris H. probably wrote that self satisfied shit in the nearest starbucks to Artichoke.

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  2. It reminds me of the spinach and artichoke dip at TGIFridays. I will have to go back though for the margherita, I was turned off by the line, the spartichoke slice and i got in a tiff with the staff, so I've had a bad ummm taste in my my mouth ever since.

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  3. Duly noted - btw, Tom Robbins the Author or the Village Voice writer? Either way i'm flattered. ;)

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  4. Tom Robbins the author. And for what it's worth, you obviously have a sense of humor and don't take yourself too seriously, and that is alright in my book.

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  5. Artichoke has a clam slice too, if you're into that sort of thing, and a sicilian slice.

    The artichoke slice is, as someone else said, dip on a crust. It's awesome in that, and impetuous inebriation is definitely helpful when deciding to consume it.

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  6. mmmm....this makes me want a slice of artichoke right now.

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